Altóir
I do not kneel before my gods; I sit beside them on the ground, whether it be tile or dirt.
What I pour for them, I pour for me so we can share in a drink. The smoke of incense drifting out of the cauldron perfumes the air we share. The space, while sometimes in two different realms, is our own.
They hear my problems as I hear theirs. They're lucky - the more severe problems of old seem to have faded. They face new problems now that they tend to handle on their own time as they expect me to handle mine on mine. They're not my parents, as they remind me, and I am not a child, excepting our age gap. Adults have to work hard to adapt and grow.
Music is always necessary to our meetings. Whether it's a background of pipes and fiddles or a folk song set to a marching drum, our blood beats in time. If there's no liquor poured, the complaints beat in time as well. Hospitality must be done right, after all.
There is no altar except the cups sitting in front of me. The candles I use for them are in a semi-circle, some brighter than others. Some flicker, some remain still.
No tools are required except my voice, my hands and my heart. No elemental symbols except the night air, the fresh grass and the water on the breeze. No invocations except a breath, prayer and answer.
I never ask them to leave but give them all I can before I stop for the night. Some go then, content with my tiny ritual and shared meal. Others stay, content with my food, time and heart.
---
Prompted by the Pagan Blog Prompts "A is for Altar." I don't have one, as this states, except for some spots in nature. As I mentioned in the last post, usually under the oak tree. My parents know of my religious views and are of the opinion that as long as I am happy, healthy and safe, they're not ones to complain.
Working without an altar is actually pretty nice. I used to have one and fuss about it getting dusty because I was busy or chose to go outside. Or that it became cluttered. Or wax had gotten onto the new altar cloth and would never come off, even with the ice and oh no, cauldron ashes! Much easier - and more natural - for me to go outside and set up and enjoy my drink (sometimes only the gods get the liquor).
What I pour for them, I pour for me so we can share in a drink. The smoke of incense drifting out of the cauldron perfumes the air we share. The space, while sometimes in two different realms, is our own.
They hear my problems as I hear theirs. They're lucky - the more severe problems of old seem to have faded. They face new problems now that they tend to handle on their own time as they expect me to handle mine on mine. They're not my parents, as they remind me, and I am not a child, excepting our age gap. Adults have to work hard to adapt and grow.
Music is always necessary to our meetings. Whether it's a background of pipes and fiddles or a folk song set to a marching drum, our blood beats in time. If there's no liquor poured, the complaints beat in time as well. Hospitality must be done right, after all.
There is no altar except the cups sitting in front of me. The candles I use for them are in a semi-circle, some brighter than others. Some flicker, some remain still.
No tools are required except my voice, my hands and my heart. No elemental symbols except the night air, the fresh grass and the water on the breeze. No invocations except a breath, prayer and answer.
I never ask them to leave but give them all I can before I stop for the night. Some go then, content with my tiny ritual and shared meal. Others stay, content with my food, time and heart.
---
Prompted by the Pagan Blog Prompts "A is for Altar." I don't have one, as this states, except for some spots in nature. As I mentioned in the last post, usually under the oak tree. My parents know of my religious views and are of the opinion that as long as I am happy, healthy and safe, they're not ones to complain.
Working without an altar is actually pretty nice. I used to have one and fuss about it getting dusty because I was busy or chose to go outside. Or that it became cluttered. Or wax had gotten onto the new altar cloth and would never come off, even with the ice and oh no, cauldron ashes! Much easier - and more natural - for me to go outside and set up and enjoy my drink (sometimes only the gods get the liquor).